


Crushing My Pride

by tristinai



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Connie RK800, Cunnilingus, Eliza Kamski, F/F, First Time, Genderbending, Genderswap, Gwendolyn Reed, Gwensexual Nines, Hanna Anderson, Nina RK900, Sapphic and fluffy, Tim Chen, Tough as Nails Nines is really a big softie, Vaginal Fingering, background Hancon, but Gwen still calls her Nines, but a lot more fluff and smut than angst, everyone is genderswapped, gay!Tim, hinted major character death but not really, it all works out!, lesbian!Gwen, reed900, soft!Nines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 23:56:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16963899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristinai/pseuds/tristinai
Summary: A comment by Nines throws Gwen into a gay panic and it all goes downhill from there.





	Crushing My Pride

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dying to write some W|W fanfiction for a while now so here's my take on a genderswap Detroit:Become Human. This fic follows many fanon tropes for Reed900 but with a sapphic spin. All character names are listed in the tags but it becomes pretty obvious who is who. It's also one of the few things I've written that's full of sweet, fluffy goodness. Only happy endings here!
> 
> I really wish I knew who to credit for starting the 'Gwen Reed' trend. I've seen the name used a few times on Tumblr and here so I went with that one when I was writing this. I'm more than happy to edit this note later and credit them properly, if someone can point me in the right direction.
> 
> As always, please check the tags before reading. Un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own. I would also like to note that Gwen uses the C-word quite liberally in this fic so if that bothers you, you might not want to be reading this.
> 
> Title taken from Sofya Wang's _Found Love_.

Gwen props her feet up on her desk, leaning back in her chair, arms stretched to angle the phone’s front screen camera in a way that highlighted the curve of jawline, lips curling with the hint of a nonchalant smirk. Tilting her head just so to diminish the ugly scar marring the skin across her nose, her thumb hovers in place, prepping for the perfect selfie.

 

Three...two...one—

 

“Detective? Is this a constructive use of your time?”

 

Gwen yelps as she stares up into a pair of cool, gray eyes, Nines’ face crowding her vision. She nearly fumbles her phone, pink splashing over her cheeks and scowling as she shoves at the android’s shoulder with her free hand.

 

“The fuck, Nines! Creep much?”  


Nines looks anything but amused as she stands to her full height—a fucking giraffe compared to her petite partner who barely hit 5’3’ with a good posture—arms tucked behind her back and staring down impassively at Gwen.

 

“It’s approximately 8:02 AM and you have neither started on the reports we’ve been assigned nor finished cataloging the evidence you were filing the evening before,” Nines answers, tone as rigid as her piercing gaze. “Instead, you appear more intent on adding to your numerous collection of self-taken photographs captured in insufficient lighting. While it is not my place to judge what constitutes your fascination with your own appearance, I highly suspect Captain Fowler is not paying you to indulge your vanity while we are on the clock.”

 

Gwen feels more heat rush to her cheeks and hides her humiliation with a glare. “And how the fuck would you know how many selfies I have, dipshit?”

 

Nines seats herself at the desk on the other side of Gwen’s, her long torso and perfect posture making the detective feel that much smaller. Bitch has legs that go for days and were she not made of wires and bolts, Gwen would be salivating. “You’re deflecting, detective. Perhaps if you spent as much time focused on your work as you do antagonizing your coworkers, you would get something done.”

 

As it stands, Nines is quite adept at killing Gwen’s lady boner for tall, beautiful women, on account of her being an absolute and utter cunt to work with.

 

“Asshole,” Gwen mutters under her breath.

 

Her phone vibrates in her hand.

 

**Robobitch 8:03 AM**

_Those reports won’t complete themselves, Detective._

 

Gwen bites back an insult as Captain Fowler walks by, look of displeasure as she glances pointedly at Gwen’s feet propped up on the edge of her desk. “Nina, Reed. I want those reports by noon.”

 

“Of course, Captain Fowler,” Nines says, ever the professional.

 

 _Fucking brown-noser,_ Gwen thinks irritably.

 

With Fowler at the other end of the bullpen, Nines reaches across their desks with one of those stupidly long, toned arms (not that Gwen has ever noticed the way synthetic muscle strains against the tight turtlenecks her partner wears) and shoves at Gwen’s feet with enough force to knock them off. Gwen flails and only just keeps herself from falling over sideways in her chair.

 

“The hell you do that for?!”

 

Nines’ eyes dart from the computer screen in front of her and Gwen feels a warm creeping as she’s caught in that glacial gaze. The android’s LED remains an infuriating calm blue, though a hint of a smirk rests on her soft lips. “I believe the emotion I’m experiencing is what you would call ‘second hand embarrassment’. However, given your predisposition to regularly conduct yourself in an unprofessional manner, this is not a feeling I am unfamiliar with.”

 

“Eat a dick,” Gwen snaps, pressing a bit too hard as she boots up her desktop.

 

To her surprise, she notices the android’s LED cycle yellow, eyebrows furrowing as she seems lost in thought. A tuft of dark hair falls over her eyes as Nines tilts her head and gives Gwen a look so intense, the detective feels a blush that spreads to the tips of her ears.

 

“Unfortunately, your suggestion does not fall within the parameters of what I would prefer ‘eating’,” Nines says, and there’s something so suggestive about the contemplative _look_ she gives her partner, Gwen’s face is left burning. “Unless you meant that as an insult, in which case, at the expense of resorting to your level of childishness, I would respond ‘Go fuck yourself’ and remind you to get back to work if you don’t wish to incur the Captain’s wrath.”

 

Satisfied, the android smiles and returns her attention to her computer, leaving Gwen at a loss for words.

 

Did the tin can really just imply she’d rather eat pussy?

 

Gwen considers herself adaptable, able to tackle any challenge that presents itself. It’s what makes her that fucking great at her job.

 

Yet at the prospect of discovering her android partner may have a preference, she suddenly doesn’t know what to make of that information, nor the warm trill that trickles low in her belly as she glances across at her partner and notices, for the first time, how gentle those lips look, wonders how they would feel pressed against her pus—

 

She shakes the thought from her head.

 

_Wait...did the bitch just tell me to go fuck myself????_

 

* * *

 

 

It only gets worse the longer the thought remains in her head, the more Gwen begins to imagine the possibilities. Androids aren’t people so how the fuck can they have _preferences_? And yes, she’s calling it a fucking preference because there’s no way an android can know it wants pussy or dick because androids _aren’t_ alive, they aren’t activated gay or bi or whatever.

 

At least, that’s what she tells herself when she’s at work. When Nines tells her off or the banter leaves her so keyed up, she pretends it’s contempt and not _need_ that makes her want to shove the obnoxious bitch against the nearest surface.

 

But she quickly forgets this when she’s pounding her fingers so deep inside her touch-starved pussy, she’s whimpering and moaning a name that shouldn’t fall from her lips, pictures longer, slimmer fingers stroking that spot that never fails to make her see stars.

 

Her world becomes an explosion of monochrome and she drowns in all the hues of gray behind her closed eyes, sticky fingers resting against her quaking thighs.

 

It becomes harder to look at Nines each morning without thinking, _You felt so fucking good last night_ and feeling blood rush to her face as she wants desperately for the ‘You’ to be more than the lonely substitute her fingers provide.

 

Before long, Gwen knows she’s got it bad.

 

“I get my latest ‘Is he or is he not interested?’ gay panic isn’t high on your list of priorities but maybe you could pretend you give a shit and humor me with some shitty platitude to make my single ass feel better.”

 

Gwen blinks and glances over at Tim, who’s leaning against the break room counter beside her. “Hmm?”

 

Chen tries not to smirk as he takes a sip of his coffee, his dark eyes following what had distracted Gwen moments before. Or, more specifically, the curvy posterior directly in Gwen’s line of sight, her partner at the far end of the bullpen and leaning over Connie’s desk as the androids engage in an amicable discussion with Hanna Anderson. Gwen wills the blood to not rush to her face but the way Tim wiggles his brows at her lets her know that he _knows_ , the clever fucker.

 

“It’s not what you think,” she grumbles, hiding her face as she takes a long sip of her coffee. And burns her tongue. Fuuuuuuuck. “Not my fault those perverted fucks at Cyberlife make them like _that._ ”

 

“Tall, dark-haired, doesn’t put up with your shit,” Tim lists, chuckling when Gwen elbows him. “Isn’t that every woman you’ve ever dated?”

 

“And how many of them got their shit together and dumped my ass before things got too serious,” Gwen answers.

 

She tries and tells herself it’s the bitterness of her coffee that’s left such a foul taste in her mouth.

 

“Nina’s not like that,” Tim says and Gwen wishes she could believe him.

 

She has a way of bringing out the worst in everything she touches.

 

At the other end of the bullpen, she sees Connie smile fondly at Hanna, watches enviously as the lieutenant squeezes her partner’s shoulder in what most would assume a friendly gesture but Gwen _knows—_ has known since Anderson stopped crawling into work in the mornings looking as if she’d spent the better part of the night finding answers at the bottom of a bottle.

 

Her grip tightens around the paper cup she holds in her hand.

 

“She’s watches you, too, you know? When you think she’s not looking.”

 

“What?”

 

Gwen gives him a disbelieving look.

 

When she stares back ahead, she loses herself in a frigid gaze that leaves heat licking at the edges of her core. For a moment, she can almost believe she’s met with a challenge, that she’s being dared to plunge headfirst into those ice cold waters, into what’s quickly starting to feel like their _inevitability._ And fuck, does she want to give in, does she want to _want_ with abandon but she knows she’s too fucking stubborn to take that first step, too fucking terrified of what it means if Nines feels the same.

 

All too quickly, Nines is looking away.

 

“No way,” Gwen scoffs. “The only thing Robobitch cares about is showing my ass up and making my work life hell.”

 

She plays it off as if it’s not worth wasting another moment on. But it doesn’t stop her treacherous head from thinking _what if?_ for the remainder of the week.

 

* * *

 

 

3 seconds.

 

That all it takes for Gwen to make her mistake, a brash miscalculation that puts her in the line of fire, revolver cocked, fingers closing on the trigger.

 

There’s a flash of images rushing through her head, the triviality of the shit she’s wasted so much time stressing over making regret settle like an old friend, seeping into her bones and numbing the panic with a resolve that shouldn’t feel this _familiar._

 

Gwendolyn Reed is about to die at the age of 36 and her one thought is how she’s not even surprised.

 

There’s a shot, ringing like thunder in the air. She anticipates the bullet severing her flesh, prays that it’s instantaneous. She doesn’t want to bleed out slowly, lungs filling and choking with her own blood. So if this fucker’s gonna kill her, his aim better not be shit.

 

But the shot doesn’t hit her. And for one wild, desperate moment, she hopes the asshole really is that shitty with a gun.

 

But then she notices the figure looming in front of her, tall and imposing, with legs that stretch for miles and broad shoulders that pull taut at the fabric of the Cyberlife issued jacket.

 

Another shot rings in the air.

 

Bullseye.

 

The perp crumples against the floor in a pool of his own blood.

 

“Nines...”

 

The gun falls from Nines’ hand as she pitches forward, falling onto her knees. A hand presses against the android’s chest and Gwen realizes, with horror, that pale fingers are quickly becoming stained dark blue.

 

“D-detective,” Nines’ voice crackles, her LED flashing violent shades of red.

 

Gwen’s down there with her, hands trembling in panic, thirium seeping into her jeans. There’s a lot—too fucking much—and it’s leaking from the android’s damaged chassis, painting Gwen’s entire world blue. Never has she hated a color so fucking much.

 

“It’s alright, Nines. It’s gonna be alright,” Gwen babbles, grasping at the android’s shoulders, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. “Just fucking—just wait it out, backup’s coming.”

 

And who’s fault was it for not waiting—as they were ordered to—for backup to arrive when they called it in minutes earlier?

 

Already, Gwen’s beginning to choke on her own shame.

 

“At the rate I’m losing thirium, I project shut down to be imminent in approximately 1:19 seconds,” Nines says, the broken static making dread settle like a heavy weight crushing against Gwen’s diaphragm. Nines’ body shudders and Gwen’s catching the android in her arms, shifting so her back is pressing against Gwen’s front. Gwen’s vision begins to blur and she rapidly blinks, focuses on pressing a hand on top of Nines’ in a pitiful attempt to prevent more thirium from escaping the android’s wound.

 

A hand reaches up, weakly, to press long fingers against Gwen’s cheek.

 

“I’m sorry,” Nines starts to say.

 

“Jesus Christ, Nines. It’s—It’s just a bullet. You plastic fuckers can—you can f-fucking—”

 

Much to her embarrassment, Gwen’s voice cracks.

 

A tear dribbles off Gwen’s chin, splashing a pale cheek. In her blurred vision, she can just make out gray eyes gazing softly up into hers and she wonders how fucking stupid she was to ever think them so frigid.

 

“I’m sorry,” Nines says again. Her hand falls limply from Gwen’s cheek. “I—I’m so—”

 

Her LED stops spinning.

 

And that’s when Gwen breaks.

 

* * *

 

 

“—likelihood of restoring backed up data is highly improbable, given the complex design of the RK series,” the technician android says. She indicates to the damaged chassis, where exposed wiring peeks from the hole in Nines’ shirt. “Our scans indicate thirium loss to be the primary cause of the RK900’s shutdown and that no damage was done to any necessary components that would render the unit inoperable—”

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, she’s not some faulty computer, for fuckssakes!” Gwen snaps, startling everyone in the room.

 

She has to avert her eyes from that unseeing gaze, feels her vision prickle once more.

 

A comforting hand falls on her shoulder but Gwen shrugs it off angrily.

 

“What Tessa’s trying to say,” Connie says, gently, but Gwen doesn’t miss the constant red that’s been cycling at the side of her head since Connie found them, nor the pitying sadness in those expressive, brown eyes, “is that Nina can be brought back online but the state in which she returns remains in question.”

 

“It would take someone with intimate knowledge of the RK900 model, preferably someone directly involved in the design, and few at Cyberlife were involved in the project. You may file a request with Cyberlife’s support department, though it may take between four to six weeks before you receive a reply.”

 

“Four to six weeks? The fuck is this bullshit!”

 

“Gwen,” Connie tries to soothe the detective.

 

“The alternative is we repair the damage and conduct a reset and your RK900 should be fully operational within the next 24 hours.”

 

“I swear to fucking God if you call her RK900 one more fucking time—!”

 

“Detective!” Connie says, pulling her back as the petite woman attempts to get right in the technician’s face. “While I understand you have a tendency to resort to anger and violence when you are upset, now is not the time to be picking a fight.”

 

Gwen shoves off Connie’s grip, anger the only thing keeping her together. It’s easier to perceive this bitch Tessa as a threat than to submit to the guilt of her shitty life choices, to watch over and over in her own head the moment Nines’ went offline.

 

It’s easier to hate everyone else in this room so Gwen can pretend the person she hates the most isn’t the one that stares back at her each morning she looks in the mirror.

 

It should be her lying there on the table.

 

It should have been _her_ , not Nines.

 

Gwen pulls out her phone, her thirium-stained fingers shaking. She feels her throat burn with bile at the thinks of what she’s about to do but there’s only one way to make things right and if her pride has to take a severe hit on the possibility—as slim as it may be—that Nines can be brought back, well she’ll prostrate herself before the only egotistical cunt smart enough to fix her fucking mistake.

 

“You so much as try and reset her while I’m gone and I’m turning you to scrap,” Gwen says, glaring at Tessa.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Gonna make a call and fix this,” is all Gwen says but she swears she sees the hint of a knowing smile on Connie’s lips before she leaves the room.

 

Once she feels she’s safely out of earshot, Gwen takes a deep breath, stares down at the contact on the screen of her phone. They haven’t talked in nearly a year, only reluctantly acknowledging each other last time at a family gathering, and sending courteous, empty greetings during customary life events. Hell, Gwen half forgot it was even her own birthday last October until she saw the message notification pop up on her screen.

 

Swallowing thickly, she thinks of gentle fingers touching her cheek, sorrow-filled gray eyes swimming with the same regret that spilled off Gwen’s lashes.

 

And suddenly, pride doesn’t seem all that important.

 

She dials and presses the phone to her ear.

 

It rings only twice.

 

“Hey, Elly. I...I fucked up,” she admits and she’s brought back to summers spent reluctantly with her father and his affluent family, the friendship she forged with a half sister who detested the man as much as herself before their paths diverged and caused a rift that’s been irreparable since the early days of their adulthood.

 

And, for perhaps the only time she can remember in her adult life, Gwen hears Eliza Kamski sigh softly and her next words are absent of the usual condescension that dominates their conversations. “What do you need me to do, Gwennie?”

 

* * *

 

 

The message comes days later, not long after Gwen drags her ass out of bed to feed the annoying bitch who woke her up. She grumbles her way through the morning routine, opening a can of the organic cat food Duchess goes ape shit for, though she’s secretly grateful for the monotony of it. Now that it’s the weekend, she doesn’t have the distraction of work to keep her from both the anxiety and dread as she impatiently waits for Elly to get back to her.

 

She taps her fingers on the counter, waits for her coffeemaker to finish preparing her drink. That’s when the phone buzzes beside her hand and her eyes flicker to the screen.

 

**Elly Cuntski 8:43 AM**

_Sending Nines home today._

 

The vagueness of it has her pulling her lower lip between her teeth, sinking dread festering low in her chest. Her hand reaches for the phone but she hesitates, a plethora of questions on the edge of her tongue. But none of them feel like the right ones. All that matters is the answer and it comes before she picks the phone up off the counter.

 

**Elly Cuntski 8:44 AM**

_You’re welcome._

 

And for the first time in days, Gwen feels like she can finally _breathe_.

 

**Gwen 8:44 AM**

_Thanks, Elly._

 

It’s not the reconciliation either of them had expected but, perhaps, it’s a start.

 

With the weight temporarily lifted from her shoulders, Gwen becomes restless. She busies herself by picking up around her apartment, putting things back in places they haven’t been for months. Laundry comes next and once she starts organizing the sparse contents in her cupboards, even Duchess seems to be giving her a quizzical _What the fuck?_ kind of judgment that leaves Gwen flipping off her pet.

 

It’s as she removes the laundry from the dryer that the dam breaks, the guilt she’s been burying bursting through fragile resolve. Her knees buckle and a choked gasp rips from her chest as she finds herself collapsed among the chaos of lavender-scented clothes, hands gripping at her knees. Her vision swims, thick tears spilling down her cheeks and she succumbs to the grief that she’s held at bay, the knowledge that though Nines is back, it’s still her fault that Nines ‘ _died’_ in the first place.

 

Her fault that Nines could have been reset without ever knowing she’s worth so much fucking more than the shit Gwen always puts her through.

 

She hears a knocking at her door and swipes hastily at her eyes, shakily swallowing a sob. The fucking takeout she ordered earlier isn’t supposed to arrive for at least another twenty minutes and what a fucking annoying time to show some god damn efficiency, when her hair’s a mess and she’s wearing her old sweats and covered in so much cat fur and now her fucking face is all splotchy and—

 

She throws the door open harder than she means to.

 

And she stares up—always fucking up because why the fuck does the bitch have to be so god damn tall and perfect?—into a pair of gray eyes. Gwen startles, her heart beating rapidly and there’s trepidation as she holds her breath, half expecting Nines to regard her with a distant, detached gaze that comes with a factory reset—half expects for Nines to be truly ‘dead’ and replaced with a shadow of her former self-- when those gray eyes soften with concern and a tiny frown tugs at those lips she’s wanted nothing more than to tease open with her own. They part to speak and this close, Gwen can make out the constellations of tiny moles and freckles on Nines’ gorgeous face and finds her eyes drawn to one not far from Nines’ lower lip, fighting a sudden urge to trace the patterns with her fingertips.

 

But then, of course, Nines has to speak. And Gwen—being _Gwen—_ has to fucking ruin it.

 

“Detective Reed—”

 

“Just what the fuck were you doing, jumping in front of a fucking bullet?! Cyberlife program you with some self-sacrificing hero bullshit or have you always been that fucking stupid?!” Gwen snaps.

 

Yellow—Yellow—Red—Red—Yellow.

 

The cycle of colors blink rapidly at Nines’ temple, voice straining to remain level. “You were in imminent danger. I had to---!”

 

“Newsflash, asshole: nobody asked you to save me!”

 

She shoves angrily at Nines’ chest and only grows more infuriated as she’s met with an impenetrable wall, stumbling back two steps. Her lips curl in a snarl.

 

“Detective Reed, you are currently experiencing high levels of stress. If you would—”

 

“What fucking use are you if you can’t fucking take a shitty bullet!” Gavin rages, the stinging in her eyes causing her vision to blur. She pounds a fist against Nines’ shoulder, voice cracking. “Fucking—fucking almost didn’t—you almost—f-fucking--”

 

Nines catches Gwen’s fists with her hands, her grip firm but gentle. It’s those fingers pressed against her that reminds her once more of how they had felt in those final moments before Nines’ shut down and suddenly, Gwen is rendered an inconsolable mess. She sobs and sobs, falling into Nines’ embrace, hands gripping tightly at the android’s coat, half expecting to wake up in a world where she isn’t Eliza Kamski’s sister and her android partner remains a deactivated corpse on some warehouse floor. There was a time she would have welcomed such a scenario. Now, she’d very much love to go back in time and punch the heartless cunt in the face.

 

A soothing hand rubs circles on her back and she doesn’t know how long they stand in the doorway but she can’t bring herself to care. She’d spend the rest of the weekend clinging to the android, making a damn spectacle of herself in the apartment hallway if that’s what it took to ensure Nines never leaves her again.

 

“Don’t do that shit again,” Gwen whispers, the severity of her threat diminished by a sudden hiccup. She tilts her head up to look into Nines’ soft gaze, sniffling as the android swipes away some of her tears with her thumb.

 

“You know I can’t promise that, Gwen,” Nines answers, quietly. She tucks a strand of Gwen’s messy hair behind her ear and Gwen leans into the touch, secretly relishing the way her name sounds on the android’s lips. “I would shut down a thousand more times if it meant no harm ever comes to you.”

 

Gwen feels her eyes begin to water again and ducks her head to hide her face in Nines’ chest. “Asshole.”

 

She feels Nines’ chuckle and realizes, with a very heated blush, that her face is pressed between the android’s breasts. But if anything, the way she suddenly jerks her head up only seems to amuse the android further.

 

Fucking height differences.

 

“Laugh it up, Sasquatch,” Gwen grumbles, “I only just spent the last fucking week crying over your stupid, reckless ass.”

 

“And I only just spent mine facing a factory reset because of yours,” Nines says, cheekily.

 

But Gwen grimaces as she recalls the split second decision she had made, pursuing a target that put both of them in the line of fire. And Nines realizes how careless her words are once it’s too late to take them back.

 

“Nines, I’m so—”

 

“It was just as much my fault as it was yours,” Nines says. “I don’t blame you, detective. I only wish that you not endanger yourself like that in the future. I…would not like to preconstruct any scenario without you as my partner.”

 

Gwen’s expression softens as she looks into Nines’ eyes and she’s only just becoming aware that in the time since Nines showed up at her door, she hasn’t taken her hands off the android. As a tuft of hair falls in front of her gray eyes, Gwen reaches up to push the strands aside, her cheeks growing warmer. She hears the pounding of her heart drowning the trepidation that has often held her back and decides _Fuck it,_ it’s about time she grew a fucking pair.

 

She steps on the tips of her toes, lashes fluttering close as Nines tilts her head to meet her the rest of the way. The android’s nose brushes alongside hers, lips a hairsbreadth from staking their claim, and Gwen’s yielding to this all-consuming attraction that’s always terrified her, hand fisting into Nines’ coat—

 

“Uh...did somebody order Chinese?”

 

She springs back in alarm, elbow smacking into the door frame with a loud, “ _Ph_ _u_ _ck!_ ” Nines perfectly mirrors the glare she directs at the source of the intrusion and the poor man looks near ready to piss himself as he awkwardly holds out the bag of food.

 

Well... _ph_ _u_ _ck!_

 

* * *

 

 

“You really don’t need to do that,” Gwen says, around a mouthful of food.

  
  
She watches from where she sits on the couch, feet curled under her, as Nines collects the last of the clothes off the floor, folds and places it into the basket. There’s a gentle smile on the android’s lips and Gwen can’t help but duck her head, shovel more food into her mouth, as she feels the tips of her ears grow warmer. Her own lips still tingle from the near kiss they shared and were she not a complete chicken shit in the face of intimacy, she’d be abandoning the container of take out and crossing the room to pick up where they left off.

  
  
But Gwen is as in denial as any shitty lesbian meme from her high school days would purport, still able to cling to indecision no matter how much Nines lets her know their attraction is reciprocated. Nines could spend all day waxing poetry to her and Gwen’s head would somehow convince her the android is doing it only out of friendly affection.

  
  
Bitch almost died and what does Gwen do? Hide behind her box of Chinese food and eat her feelings.

  
  
Even the cat seems to be judging her from where she’s perched on the windowsill.

  
  
_Traitor_ , Gwen thinks, bitterly.

  
  
“In light of the distress my absence caused, it is the least I can do. A small gesture to make it up to you,” Nines answers.

  
  
Tall and gorgeous takes a bullet to save her ungrateful ass and somehow thinks she’s the one who owes Gwen. How fucked is this?

  
  
_Woman up_ , Gwen tells herself.

  
  
Swallowing another mouthful of food, she places the container on the coffee table, tongue flicking out to wet her dry lips. “Hey. Come here.”

  
  
Slightly bemused, Nines abandons the basket, crossing the room in a few graceful strides. She kneels in front of Gwen, gaze warm, and places a hesitant hand upon Gwen’s knee. Gwen watches as hints of blue splash across pale cheeks, pulse racing as she answers by reaching out with her own hand to cradle the android’s face. The synthetic skin is smooth in the palm of her hand and Gwen could cry from how wonderful it feels to be touching Nines, better than anything she imagined.

  
  
Fine lashes flutter, gray eyes slightly masked behind a half lidded gaze as Gwen’s thumb traces an imaginary trail between two freckles.

  
  
“You don’t owe me shit,” Gwen says, quietly.

  
  
Placing a hand over hers, Nines gently pulls her partner’s hand from her face, shyly flickers her eyes up to Gwen’s and then presses a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist. Gwen has to swallow a sound she’s not entirely proud of.

  
  
“I’ve committed to never causing you harm,” Nines says, voice laced with regret. “And in that, I have already failed.”

  
  
Gwen knows her eyes are still rimmed red, still feels that ache in her chest that reopens with a vengeance each time she lets herself return to that warehouse, replays the moments the bullet hits Nines to the android’s final words as she bleeds out. She still feels the weight of the deactivated android in her arms and knows that many restless evenings await her until the nightmares finally stop.

  
  
It takes strength she’s surprised she has to not burst into tears all over again.

  
  
“Well, fuck,” she mumbles, hoarsely. “If you’re gonna beat yourself up each time I get upset, you’re in for a lot of disappointment. Not sure you noticed but I’m an emotional bitch and cry over shit all the time.”

  
  
“I have an entire database of files committed to the many moments you have given into your emotions, Detective.”

  
  
“Geez, Nines, you couldn’t just pretend I’m a tough bitch and save my fragile ego?”

  
  
“Perhaps,” Nines says, her lips quirking. She leans up and Gwen finds her protests dying on her tongue, eyes dropping to the soft lips mere inches from hers. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to show a little humility, Detective.”

  
  
And then she’s kissing her, her mouth as soft as Gwen had imagined. It’s a tender exchange, a mere touching of lips, inexperience and expectation leaving the android only confident to initiate. But Gwen is only too eager to lead, feels the last of her doubts melt away as she grasps the back of Nines’ head, moving her mouth against her partner’s to gently coax those lips open. A gasp echoes in the back of her throat as a warm tongue brushes against hers and it’s quite easy to forget how strange the taste and texture of artificial saliva feels when Nines is responding with an eagerness that has her toes curling. Her fingers grip at silky strands of hair, legs shifting as she tugs Nines onto her lap and she’s tilting her head back against the cushioning on the couch as their kiss deepens. Her heart hammers away in her chest and she’s half surprised it hasn’t burst through her ribcage, though when she places a hand against Nines’ chest, she near moans at the feel of the android’s thirium pump whirring against her palm.

  
  
A hand cradles her face, tongue licking the roof of her mouth and Gwen would be content to pass out like this, groans in protest when Nines breaks off the kiss, leaving her gasping for breath. Foreheads pressed together, Nines exhales unnecessarily, artificial breath tickling Gwen’s wet lips.

  
  
“I’m not adept when it comes to human intimacy,” Nines admits and Gwen can hear the uncertainty in the android’s voice.

  
  
She kisses her chastely, then pulls the android’s lower lip between her teeth, suckles teasingly. There’s a sound like radio static that rips from Nines’ throat.

  
  
“Babe, you’re doing just fine,” Gwen mumbles against her lips.

  
  
Fine was an understatement, if the moistness of her panties was anything to go by.

  
  
Fuck, Gwen can’t even recall the last time a kiss made her this wet.

  
  
There’s a deep, blue blush on the android’s cheeks and Gwen can’t decide if it’s more endearing or hot the way Nines’ steeled composure has unraveled with a mere make out session. Her fingers play with the hem of Nines’ shirt but even if her partner has shown she’s willing, Gwen’s not about to take this any farther until she knows for sure this is what she wants.

  
  
Her first brush with intimacy and the dipshit chooses Gwendolyn Reed. Gwen can’t help but question if RK900 is really Cyberlife’s most advanced model.

  
  
She tries to brush aside her insecurities but she’s already tensing beneath Nines, feels the android’s concerned eyes on her. Gwen swallows, thickly. “You sure about this, Nines?”

  
  
“There’s no one else I would rather experience this with, Gwen,” the android confesses, expression so earnest, it has Gwen’s eyes prickling.

  
  
Fuck.

  
  
She captures Nines’ lips in a heated kiss, buries her fears with eager hands that slip beneath dark fabric. She traces her hands across the soft expanse of Nines’ abdomen, mapping the unblemished flesh with curious fingers eager to uncover every inch of synthetic skin hidden beneath the simple clothing the android often adorns herself with. Her mouth leaves Nines’, kisses pressing against a sharp jawline and she utters a frustrated growl as that damned turtleneck prevents her from tasting the pale skin of Nines’ neck.

  
  
“This. Off.”

  
  
She tugs impatiently at the hem of Nines’ shirt.

  
  
The android has the nerve to smirk but complies, pulling the material gracefully off her torso. She attempts to fold it but Gwen pulls the shirt from her grip and tosses it somewhere behind the couch. Even through the blue flush, Nines manages to convey a hint of annoyance.

  
  
“I just picked up the clothes off your floor.”

  
  
“No one’s stopping you from doing it later,” Gwen answers.

  
  
“I’ll be sure to convey the last words spoken by Gwendolyn Reed in her eulogy,” the android comments, dryly.

  
  
But there’s no real threat in her voice and Gwen can’t help but grin up at the god damn tree that’s somehow planted herself in her lap. She presses a kiss to Nines’ neck, nibbles at the spot, and whispers, into pale skin, “Thought you said you’d never harm me.”

  
  
“Seeing as you’ve concluded that objective impossible, I’ve made the executive decision to abandon it. It was a pleasure knowing you, Detective Reed.”

  
  
“Niiiiines,” Gwen pouts, face buried in the crook of the android’s neck.

  
  
Gwen feels the android press a kiss in her hair, Nines’ laughter softer than any other sound the android has ever made. Gwen lifts her head and tries to look put off but it’s hard to feign annoyance when a thumb brushes over a hardened nipple hidden only by the thin cloth of her tank top. A gentle whimper tumbles off her lips and she’s rendered speechless by the sudden heat in Nines’ eyes, leaning into the android’s touch, thumb circling around the hard bud.

  
  
“You’re aroused,” Nines says, voice crackling around the statement.

  
  
“You gonna do something about it, Tin Can?”

  
  
Gwen gasps as her partner pinches the clothed flesh between her fingers, the pleasurable trill making her drip in her already wet panties. The android cups experimentally, squeezes gently as the Detective presses up into her hand.

  
  
“What is it you’d like me to do, Gwen?” Nines asks, somewhat awed but also slightly lost.

  
  
“You’re the one always licking shit at crime scenes. You figure it out.”

  
  
Her LED cycles yellow briefly before understanding shines in her eyes. She tugs the straps of Gavin’s tank top down her arms, exposing her breasts as the fabric pools around her waist. Her skin prickles from the cool air in the apartment but Gwen has barely time to shiver before she feels a tongue flick against one of her rosy nipples and she’s trembling for reasons entirely unrelated to the temperature. Nines pulls it between her lips and the wet heat of her mouth has Gwen’s hands flying to the android’s hair, hips canting up as the android gently suckles on her flesh.

  
  
“N-Nines,” she moans, gripping at locks of dark hair.

  
  
The android rolls her tongue over the nipple, teases it between her teeth. Gwen’s always liked a bit of pain but she doesn’t mind the gentle regard Nines has for her, her touch starved skin blazing beneath the android’s hands. It’s as the android’s stroking the underside of her neglected breast that Gwen remembers her god damn manners and decides not to be the only trembling mess on her old couch.

  
  
Her fingers dip beneath the Cyberlife issued bra, tips caressing the soft skin hidden by the nondescript fabric. It pebbles beneath her touch, areola bumpy as she presses the nipple between her forefinger and thumb and Gwen’s surprised at how natural the reaction feels.

  
  
There’s a distorted sound as Nines’ mouth pops off Gwen’s breast, the android hiding her face in the detective’s chest with a shudder. Gwen squeezes her nipple again, rewarded with another strange cry. It’s not quite human but Gwen finds it not in the least off putting.

  
  
“You like that?” she smirks, cupping Nines’ breast.

  
  
The android nods weakly. “I...may need to lower my sensory receptors as it’s distr—“

  
  
Her voice cuts out again as Gwen rolls the flesh in her hand.

  
  
“Gwen,” she moans and the detective relishes the hitch in the android’s voice.

  
  
She fondles her, massaging the squishy flesh and for all she’s ever cursed and bitched of how fake android’s are, Gwen’s left eating her own words. There’s something very real in the trust and affection in those beautiful gray eyes, in the shy static that leaves Nines flushing as Gwen coaxes out sounds the android doesn’t seem aware she was capable of making. The detective’s heart stutters as Nines brushes her lips against Gwen’s temple, and Gwen becomes only too aware she’s quickly becoming putty in the bitch’s hands.

  
  
Who the fuck is she kidding? She’s been weak for the android since day fucking one, held back only by an unhealthy cocktail of denial and self-loathing. The latter is something she’s still gotta work on but so long as Nines keeps looking at her like this, Gwen might start to convince herself she’s worth the android’s affection.

  
  
“I wanna make you feel good, Nines,” Gwen whispers, slipping her hand down the android’s front, palming at the space between her thighs. “Don’t give a shit what you got going on down there-if you got anything. Just...tell me what to do.”

  
  
The android pauses, LED briefly flickering yellow. Her brows furrow in contemplation. “My anatomy is meant to replicate a cisgender woman’s. Based on the limited research I’ve conducted, I should experience stimulation in the same way you would stimulate yourself.”

  
  
“...so, you’re saying I should finger you?”

  
  
Nines tilts her head, mussed bangs falling in front of her eyes. “Yes. I believe I would enjoy that.”

  
  
Gwen laughs, finding it stupidly endearing. This has easily got to be the most awkward, “Fingers, tongue, or both?” answer she’s ever gotten but it somehow makes sense because it’s fucking _Nines._

  
  
She grasps Nines hand. “Let’s take this some place where I got more room to work with your tall ass.”

  
  
Gwen leads Nines to the bedroom, dropping the android’s hand to shuck off the rest of her clothes. She glances over to see Nines still in her undergarments, pausing in the middle of undressing to regard Gwen curiously. Gray eyes scrutinize her exposed skin, scanning and cataloging every scar, blemish, and hideous imperfection and Gwen shifts her balance between her feet uncomfortably, staring questioningly at her partner.

  
  
“You’re beautiful, Gwen,” Nines says, the earnestness in her confession making Gwen’s pulse skip.

  
  
She shakes her head with a self-deprecating laugh. “Think you need to get your eye scanners checked, Tin Can. I’m winning no beauty pageants with this bod.”

  
  
Sure, she’s remained as fit as she needs to for her job but Gwen doesn’t need a mirror to list everything physically wrong with herself. The scars are numerous, result of years on the force, the most hideous the one that’s ruined her nose. Her breasts droop lower than they used to, stretch marks web the inside of her thighs and if she smiles wide enough, everyone can see the crooked row of her lower teeth. And that’s not to mention the age lines that have started creeping on her face.

  
  
Gwen’s made her peace, for the most part, with being ‘slightly pretty for her age’ (poorly chosen words by some asshole she clocked last time she let Tim drag her out to the bar). But it’s easy to suddenly feel self conscious when standing next to physical perfection built like one of those Amazonian warriors from that old Wonder Woman film she saw back in high school. Nines was sleek, tall with a trim waist and angelic face, but with toned arms and strong thighs built for doing damage. And fuck if the thought of what those thighs can do isn’t making Gwen wetter.

  
  
Nines traces one of the scars on Gwen’s abdomen, a gentle smile tugging on her lips. “Your experiences are cataloged on your flesh. I have only to scan and I know what misfortunes you’ve had and how long ago they occurred. Your body tells a story that mine never could.”

  
  
Gwen cocks a brow. “You trying to say you’re envious of us meatbags?”

  
  
Somehow, she found that hard to believe.

  
  
“In a way, yes. If I wish to convey my experiences, I would either need to interface or verbalize what those experiences are. It’s...less efficient, in some cases.”

  
  
Gwen presses her palm to Nines’, watching as the nanoskin folds back, revealing the white titanium beneath. Interfacing. She’s seen Nines and Connie do this a few times but never thought much of it.

  
  
Weaving Nines’ fingers through hers, she brings the hand to her lips, presses kisses on the white knuckles. There’s a faint buzz of static, the android’s true flesh attempting to ‘connect’ with her and when her eyes dart up to Nines’, she’s left staring into a soft gaze that pierces into her soul.

  
  
“Gwen...”

  
  
The detective drops her eyes, feeling a bit too exposed. There’s so much between them—enough that it can quickly become overwhelming—and she’s not quite sure she’s ready to cross that bridge yet.

  
  
But she knows what she wants, here and now. And maybe that’s enough.

  
  
“Found something I’m more efficient at,” Gwen teases to lighten the mood, poking Nines in the chest.

  
  
“And what would that be, Detective?” Nines asks, amused.

  
  
Gwen leers up at her. “Undressing.”

  
  
With a roll of her eyes, Nines pulls off the sports bra, synthetic flesh covering her hand once more. Gwen has half a mind to mock her earlier complaints as the android drops her undergarments to the floor but she’s left momentarily stunned as her eyes rake over the naked android.

 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Gwen finds herself whispering.

 

Blue tints the android’s cheeks as she shyly ducks her head.

 

Who knew the same asshole willing to tell Gwen off could also be so damn bashful?

 

Gwen’s mouth waters as she stares at the faint trail of dark hairs clustered over the mound leading to where she so desperately wants to sink her fingers. She pulls Nines towards her, both tumbling into her bed, lips once more finding lips and stoking the flames that have been burning between them all afternoon.

  
  
With Nines underneath her, Gwen thoroughly explores the wet heat of her mouth, kiss heated and sloppy, as her fingers brush through fine hairs, curling and dipping between untouched lips, seeking until—

  
  
There.

  
  
A moan crackles in their kiss as her finger circles over the small nub hidden between Nines’ folds. She dips lower, covers her fingers with artificial slick, and then presses down and rubs against the swollen clit. The intensity of the sensation has Nines breaking off the kiss, head flung back as distortion echoes in her throat.

  
  
“That’s it, babe,” Gwen says, biting back her own groan. Her thumb teases Nines’ clit, fingers brushing the android’s entrance. “I wanna fucking hear you.”

  
  
She pushes her index finger inside and Nines answers with another distorted cry. The moist heat of the android swallows her finger and, fuck, did they really need to make them this fucking tight? Gwen’s fingers are not exceptionally thick but the way Nines squeezes around her makes her wonder if the android can even take more than two.

  
  
She pulls out to the first knuckle and thrusts her finger back in. Thighs quiver beneath her as she slowly eases in another finger, slick leaking out the hole. Her hand is fucking soaked and she’s barely touched the android.

 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Gwen utters, the copious amounts of Nines’ thirium-laced lubricant making the detective’s own pussy weep. Her fingers scissor inside of Nines, the thick fluid making the slide easier and presses as deep as her fingers can go. Curving her hand, she pushes her wet palm against the android’s clit, sliding her hand to rub off the android as she fucks her with her fingers. As she builds a steady rhythm, Nines unravels underneath her, one hand grasping into the sheets and the other tangled in Gwen’s hair.

 

Her fingers stroke against an odd bunching of wires deep inside the android’s cunt and elicits a mechanical whine from the android.

 

_Huh?_

 

She thrusts in again, fingertips brushing that spot and the inhuman cry spilling off Nines’ tongue has the detective smirking coyly down at her partner.

 

“G-Gwen,” the android begs, her name breaking off in an almost incoherent echo.

 

The wet squish of her fingers each time she fucks them into Nines is nearly as loud as the string of sounds the android is unable to hold back and fuck if Gwen isn’t the most turned on she’s been in as long as she can remember. Lust-blown pupils gaze up into hers and Gwen’s bending low to taste those saliva-slicked lips once more, tongue parting them to slide against the android’s own. Nines is close, she can tell, and her hand’s moving faster to bring the android closer to that sweet precipice, ready to push her over the edge.

 

“Gonna make you cum so hard, babe,” Gwen promises hoarsely, saliva dripping from her kiss swollen lips. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

 

“G-Gwen I—I’m—!”

 

And as she thrusts her fingers deep against that bundle of wires, Nines’ voice cracks, hips shuddering and synthetic walls squeezing impossibly tight. A burst of fluid splashes onto Gwen’s hand and she guides the android through the euphoria, the whir of cooling fans in Nines chest chasing the last of the android’s moans. Her body stills, synthetic walls no longer pulsating around Gwen’s fingers and so the detective carefully slides her fingers out of the android.

 

“Bet you’ve never...”

 

The comment dies on her lips when she realizes Nines is not moving. At all.

 

“...Nines?”

 

Panic inflects her voice and she grips the android’s shoulders, gently shaking her. The sound of the fans still whir loudly and Gwen wonders if it’s possible to actually fuck an android so hard, you break them.  


Phuck.

 

Phuck. Phuck. Phuck. Phuck. PHUCK!

 

“Nines!”

 

To her relief, gray eyes flutter open and the android’s lips quirk in a contented smile. Gwen releases the breath she hadn’t known she’s been holding and tries to hide her concern with a smirk.

 

“Guess things got a bit too hot for you,” she says, bringing her wet fingers to her lips to lick away the android’s cum.

 

Hmm. So that’s what it tastes like.

 

The android watches, completed fixated on the way Gwen’s tongue laps at the fluid and Gwen can’t help but embellish a little. Having her fill of the thick, tasteless liquid, she wipes the rest off on the blanket, not caring if it stains or not. She can always wash her bedding later.

 

As she glances back at Nines, she sees the android sit up.

 

“Detective?” the android starts, pausing with a hint of trepidation. She drops her gaze meaningfully to the wet folds between Gwen’s thighs and Gwen’s only just reminded of how fucking horny she is, how long her cunt’s been weeping with neglect. When she lifts her eyes back to Gwen’s, the detective is drowning in molten gray. “May I?”

 

Gwen swallows. Hard. “Don’t feel like you have to, Tin Can.”

 

There’s a gentle push against Gwen’s shoulder and she offers no resistance as she falls back on her pillows. Nines spreads apart her thighs, an almost predatory hunger in her smirk. The confession she offers sends a pleasing trill that rocks low in Gwen’s abdomen. “It’s something I’ve preconstructed many times before.”

 

Gwen’s about to ask what that is when a wet tongue slides between her folds, rendering the detective a speechless mess. She throws her head back, colors bursting behind her closed lids because _fuuuuuuuck_ , it’s been so god damn long since she’s been eaten out. She whines, thighs quivering against the iron grip keeping them spread and it’s pure. Fucking. Blissful. Torture. as Nines very slowly, and very meticulously, explores her lower anatomy.

 

“Oh, fuck, Niiiiines,” Gwen cries, keening to press against that devious mouth.

 

The android tongues at her labia, pulling one of the folds between her lips, experimenting with the sensations she can invoke in her partner. Gwen’s whimpering as her mouth plays with her opening, slurping greedily at the fluid dripping onto her eager tongue. Without warning, Nines pistons her tongue inside and it sends a hot shiver bursting low in Gwen’s abdomen, has her voice cracking with need. Hands tangle into dark brown locks as she tries to buck up against the android’s face but Nines has her pinned and unless she wants Gwen to move, Gwen’s not fucking moving.

 

The detective complains, loudly, some incomprehensible jumble of ‘ _Hurry the fuck up’_ but it only makes the android smirk up at her.

 

“You should learn to be more patient, detective. Enjoy the moment.”

 

“I’ll enjoy it when I’m cumming on your face,” Gwen says and she’s most definitely not pouting as she tugs on Nines’ hair.

 

That evil tongue hellbent on ruining her life ventures even lower, flicking against her pucker. Gwen answers with a loud groan and, fuck, she’d even settle for having her ass eaten out. Something— _anything—_ to satisfy the ache that’s been building in her core all afternoon.

 

Nines presses her lips to Gwen’s swollen clit, mouthing at the sensitive nerves and Gwen’s unable to hold back a dry sob. _So good, so fucking good_ and she’s only half certain she’s uttering this broken mantra as Nines circles her tongue around the small, pink button, undoing Gwen so completely that by the time she starts lapping at her clit, Gwen’s pretty sure she’s already halfway to the edge. She glances down between her legs and it’s nearly enough to make her cum right then, Nines’ ravenous mouth suckling on her clitoris.

 

“F-fuck, Nines,” she whines, wanting desperately to fuck up against the android’s mouth.

 

Fingers press against her opening and Gwen learns quite quickly that Nines needs only one hand to keep her in place. She’s slick and dripping, greedily devouring the fingers that push into her, and it’s better than she’d ever imagined, more satisfying than the times Gwen’s done it herself. The android’s earlier hesitation is replaced with newfound confidence as Nines abandons all care and fucks them in and out of her, rough and precise, hitting the right spot at the right depth and making Gwen’s toes curl. Gwen’s always anticipated the process of trial and error that comes with a new partner but it’s as if Nines knows her body better than the detective knows it herself and plays her like a finely tuned instrument, composing the cacophony of _want_ spilling from Gwen’s lips.

 

It’s not long before she feels the that ache begin to crescendo. Between the zealous tongue lapping at her clit, long fingers thrusting deep into her cunt, she’s become a trembling, weeping mess of pent up frustration, a taut string ready to snap.

 

“P-please, N-Nines. F-f-fucking p-please!” she’s all but sobbing.

 

Those fingers shove into her hard and it’s the final breaking of the bough before she’s toppling, an explosion that rocks her core, vision whiting. Her body tenses, thighs shaking, and releases a throaty moan that echoes so loudly, she’s bound to get some noise complaints. But all she can focus on are the aftershocks of sweet bliss that Nines rocks her through, legs folding over Nines shoulders and holding her face where Gwen wants it most.

 

It’s only moments before the pleasure subsides and she shifts her hips uncomfortably, though Nines needs little warning before she’s stopping. Gwen’s as eager to go for a round two, three, seven but relishes the time in between, wants to come down before she gets back up.

 

And fuck, is this one high to come down from.

 

She flings a sweaty arm across her forehead, pants heavily. She feels Nines shift away from between her legs and reaches out blindly for the android. Her hand settles on the android’s shoulder and she blinks blearily up at her partner, who hovers cautiously over her.

 

“Detective?”

 

With a grin, Gwen hooks a leg around Nines and pushes her down so they are pressed together. She wraps her arms around Nines, too blissed out to give a fuck at how overly affectionate she’s being, and presses a kiss to the android’s lips. The taste of her on that wet mouth has Gwen groaning and she can’t help but press her tongue inside, savoring the evidence of where Nines’ tongue had just been.

 

Tender fingers brush aside the sweaty strands from Gwen’s forehead, and Gwen finds herself momentarily lost in a sea of calm gray, gazing at her as if nothing else matters but _her._

 

So Gwen does what she does best when she feels emotionally vulnerable: she deflects.

 

“Fuck, that was...you sure you never did this before?”

 

She plays it off as nonchalant as she can, watches as the android’s LED blinks yellow. With a somewhat sheepish smile, Nines answers, “I may have researched some pornographic content, after your suggestion that I ‘Eat a dick’. I found the videos on cunnilingus more preferable.”

 

“So you do prefer pussy,” Gwen says, smugly.

 

“I prefer _you_ , Gwen,” Nines says. “And as it is, your anatomy makes ‘eating pussy’ the more appealing option.”

 

And Jesus fucking Christ, only Nines can turn crass banter into a sappy and sweet confession.

 

Gwen’s cheeks are heating and she may have just fallen that much harder for the big dork but she’d be damned if she’s gonna admit this shit post coital. So instead, she mumbles, “Fucking androids,” and hides her face in Nines’ neck.

 

She feels more than hears the android’s gentle laugh, arms tightening around her, holding her safely in her embrace.

 

Secretly, Gwen decides that if this is what _‘fucking androids’_ entails, she can get used to this.

 


End file.
